


PWP Johnlock smut. As simply as that.

by Clair_Lestrange



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Smut, firstattemptatwritingsmut, gladmyteacherdidntaskwhatiwaswriting, igotboredatschool, johnlocksmut, pleasebenice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 18:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10836816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clair_Lestrange/pseuds/Clair_Lestrange
Summary: PWP Johnlock smut. Just as the title says.





	PWP Johnlock smut. As simply as that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing smut, so please be nice....... Oh, and all spelling and grammar mistakes belong to their lucky finder :D

It was a rainy day, dark grey and cold. Not exactly the type of day you would like to be outside, and nevertheless John Watson was. He was already soaked by the time he even reached his favourite place in Hyde Park, but he didn’t care. Inside, he was boiling with hot anger and ice-cold fury, and all because of his so-called flatmate. They had had an argument – again!- and John left the flat before he did something silly like hitting Sherlock. Not that he didn’t want to, but he wanted to do many things to him. But he can’t. Sherlock was married to his work, and John wasn’t gay. At least that’s what he told himself over and over, but with no real success due to the fact that he simply ~ was ~ in love with this big, slender, annoying, wonderful idiot Sherlock uses to be. Those thoughts calmed him down, and more, forged an iron will inside him, to go home and – finally – do the step and tell Sherlock everything.  
When he came home to 221b, the flat was dark and seemingly empty. John hurried his way to the bathroom to get a hot shower – he was still soaking wet – but as he passed Sherlock’s door he hesitated. Hasn’t he heard something? Something like a silent moan? When he shook his head in an attempt to clear it – he was sure he had imagined the sound – he heard it again. “John”. In a long, silent moan, almost pleading. Worrying if something was wrong, he pushed down the handle and silently got into the bedroom. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw Sherlock lying on the bed, a blissed out look on his face. For the first moment John was worried if Sherlock did drugs again, but then he realised his flatmate’s nakedness and the remnants of white spurts on his belly and right hand.  
Blushing he stepped back, trying to get out of the door without Sherlock noticing it.   
“John. Stay.” He frowned at the words and blushed even harder. “I know you stand there, so come in. And get rid of those wet clothes, you’ll catch a cold if you stay like this.”  
Slowly, still insecure, John stepped back in, closing the door behind him. He took off his jacket and shoes, but still lets on his trousers and jumper.  
Sherlock sat up in the meantime, not bothering his nakedness, still – or again? - half-hard. By the time John reached the bed, Sherlock had placed himself against the headboard, his legs crossed in front of him and arms stretched out to reach John and pull him down in a surprisingly ferocious kiss, all in with teeth and tongue and hands everywhere.  
Before John had even time to realise what exactly was going on, he was naked and placed in Sherlock’s lap, their now full-hard dicks pressed together needingly searching for friction, still hooked up in a breathless, needy, desperate kiss.  
By the time they had to catch their breath, every insecurity and hesitation was long forgotten. From somewhere – probably Sherlock’s bedside table – a bottle of lube appeared. Suddenly, Sherlock broke the kiss, his green-bluish eyes meeting John’s brown ones. “Are you sure about this?” “Yes, yes I am, I was never more sure of anything Sherlock”.   
With this, Sherlock thrusted his hips upwards and switched their positions, so that John lay on his back with Sherlock hovering above him. Without breaking eye contact he moved down John’s body, planting small kisses on his chest, lingering at his nipples, caressing them with his tongue until John trembled with lust, just to go down further, agonizingly slow, avoiding his cock and planting kisses on John’s inner thighs, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin, leaving bright red marks tracing his way up towards John’s groin.  
When he finally reached John’s most sensitive area, his cock was already throbbing with precome and harder than it has ever been. With one fluid motion, Sherlock took him completely in his mouth, John’s head hitting the back of Sherlock’s throat. When Sherlock began bobbing his head up and down he drew a ragged moan from John’s throat. Without stopping to blow John, Sherlock appeared a good amount of lube on his fingers and began working his index finger past the tight ring of muscles on John’s entrance. As he drew more and more moans from John, he slowly worked two fingers in, then three, all the time securing John won’t come by restraining his cock with his free hand.  
When he could easily slide in and out three fingers, he came up again, his lips meeting John’s once again while lining up his lubed cock with John’s now wide entrance.  
Slowly thrusting his hips forward, he worked just the head in, then let John time to adjust himself to the new feeling of being penetrated like this. When John began to relax, Sherlock set up a painfully slow pace, altering the angle of penetration with each trust until John suddenly cried out “yes yes yes yes exactly there Sherlock!”  
Sherlock began thrusting faster, pumping himself to ecstasy, taking John with him, filling the room with their moans and the slapping of skin against skin.  
When John began thrusting back against Sherlock, securing his prostate was hit with every thrust and crying out “fuck Sherlock fuck” with every hit, Sherlock was gone. The feeling of hot, white spurts pumped inside him while still being hit on his prostate made John cry out one last time before his cock began to twitch and cum without being even touched. Skillfully Sherlock’s hand found John’s balls, massaging them exactly right to make John’s vision go white.  
When they both were totally spent, Sherlock pulled out of John, collapsing on his chest and pulling the blanket over them, not bothered by the mess between them. Within minutes, both were asleep, cuddled up in each other and completely blissed out and content - at least for once.


End file.
